


In The Right Place...

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock arrives early to a celebratory dinner for Lestrade and sees Molly has been stood up for a date. He swoops in to save her evening, but what begins as a gesture to save her pride takes a few twists and turns along the way, ending up in a way neither of them saw coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Right Place...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WeLoveSherlolly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeLoveSherlolly/gifts).



> So **WeLoveSherlolly** had a rather bad day and asked for fluff, and so I picked a prompt I had saved from **otpprompts** ( _Imagine Person A is waiting at the bar of a very trendy restaurant for a dinner with friends when they see a distressed Person B sitting alone at a nearby table and begging the manager for just five more minutes please my date must be running late. As the manager is about to ask Person B to vacate the table, Person A feels bad and walks up over pretending to be Person B’s missing date. What happens next and whether Person B plays along or not is up to you_ ) to answer the call for fluffy fic. Hope you enjoy it, sweetie!

Sherlock did not generally tend to want to attend celebration dinners when cases were solved. He liked to avoid all of the fuss afterward, go back to his flat and his experiments and his violin. But this case had all but ensured Lestrade’s promotion, and everyone was going to be there and they all had pushed for Sherlock to join them as well. So there were reservations set for a large party at The Gherkin but Sherlock must have gotten the time wrong because he was the only one there.

“Just five more minutes, please?” he heard a familiar voice ask at the bar.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re very highly booked tonight and as the reservation is not in your name and your date is not here we’ll have to give your table up,” a man was saying to Molly.

Sherlock moved over to the bar and saw Molly standing near the bar, dressed in a knee length blue dress made out of a floral lace, speaking to a man in a crisp suit. The man was giving her a pitying look, and it irritated Sherlock. He had vague recollections of Molly saying she had a date with a James or a Jamie something or other that evening. He moved closer to the bar, and Molly started to say something before he shook his head. “I’m James,” he said to the man he assumed was the manager of the restaurant.

The man looked him up and down. “James Howell?” he said skeptically.

Sherlock pulled his wallet out and pulled out some bills. “If you actually know who I am, you’ll keep that to yourself and you’ll give Ms. Hooper and I the table she’s asking for since the _real_ James Howell is an arse who couldn’t be bothered to make an appearance tonight.”

The manager looked at the bills and then nodded, “Right this way, Mr. Howell, Ms. Hooper,” he said.

Molly picked up her clutch off the bar and gave Sherlock a wide smile. “You didn’t need to do that, Sherlock,” she said quietly, leaning in towards him.

“Well, I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” he said, leaning towards her as well. “He didn’t need to pity you.”

“Yes, he did,” she said, sighing. “I still have awful luck with men.” Then she looked up at him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Lestrade’s celebratory dinner,” he said. “His promotion is all but guaranteed because of the results of this case, and everyone wanted to celebrate. But I appear to have gotten here early.”

“But I thought it was tomorrow night,” she said with a frown. “That’s why I agreed to have this date tonight.”

“No, it’s tonight,” he said.

“Then maybe I can just have dinner with all of you,” she said. “I mean, we can give the table to someone else who wants it.”

Sherlock considered it. While he was expected to be there for the celebratory dinner Molly wasn’t, but she would be welcomed, he knew that. Still, there was something to be said for them having dinner on their own. “Well, we could,” he finally said. “But I was told the reservation wasn’t for another hour, and as I’m hungry now…”

She gave him a smile. “I’m hungry now, too,” she said. “And if we happen to finish our meal we could always join them a little later.”

“Then it’s settled.” 

They were finally led to a nice table for two and they sat down. Molly picked up her menu and her eyes went wide. “Five courses? Someone with a lot of money must be footing the bill for a celebratory dinner for Greg with as many people as I supposed had been invited.”

“I believe it’s being handled by the detective sergeants in attendance,” he said. “Which also might make it better if we aren’t there. Two less mouths to feed and all.”

“Oh,” she said. She looked out at the view of the city. “It’s certainly an exquisite view of London from up here.”

He nodded, looking outside for a moment before turning to her. Truth be told, she looked quite fetching tonight. He would admit he’d entertained a stray thought or two…or several, if he wanted to be brutally honest…about entering into some type of relationship with her, but he knew better than to act on it. It would just spell disaster for their friendship, because he had no clue how to be normal and give a woman anything she would want in a relationship, and he didn’t want to risk losing her in his life. But as he looked at her, seeing how stunning she had made herself look for a date with another man, he had to admit he felt jealous, and quite happy that this James person had been a prat and not shown up. “I suppose it is,” he murmured. When she turned to look at him, giving him a smile, he looked down. “You look nicer than usual tonight.”

“I never got the chance to wear this dress,” she said. “I was supposed to wear it on my honeymoon, to a Broadway play.”

“You were going to go to New York City?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Martha’s Vineyard. The play was going to be a one night thing.” She looked back at the view. “As much as I miss the fact I didn’t get to fulfill my dream of seeing a Broadway play, I’m glad we didn’t go. It wasn’t what I wanted. It’s what Tom wanted.”

He was quiet a moment. Even after all this time, he never asked how close she actually came to being married. “How much planning had you done?” he asked.

“We were about to send out deposits,” she said quietly. “We had the date, we’d started going through marriage classes and…and it was all too much. And we were having all these little arguments. And so I suggested we just say fuck it all and elope and he looked at me like I’d grown another head and started going on about how important the wedding was. And I just…snapped. I asked what was more important, the wedding or our marriage, and he couldn’t answer, so I gave him back the ring and told him to move out.”

Sherlock was surprised. “He saw the wedding as more important than being married to you,” he said slowly.

“Yes, he did,” she said. “I want a man who…I don’t know. If it all gets to be too much, he’ll be willing to hop on a plane and fly away to Las Vegas and get married at a tacky chapel by an Elvis impersonator. Someone who doesn’t care about the perfect wedding. Someone who cares more about simply being my husband.” Then she sighed. “And I keep ending up on dates with blokes who can’t even be bothered to show up to the actual date.”

“It’s his loss, though,” Sherlock said.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she said.

He looked over at the encroaching darkness outside. Lights all over the city were turning on, and soon they would see nothing but dark sky and lights all over the city. From their vantage point so high up he supposed it would be something spectacular, but Molly deserved better than just him covering for someone who couldn’t bother to show up. “What do you say we see what’s out on the West End tonight? It’s not Broadway, but it’s better than dinner here.”

She gave him a wide smile. “Oh, God, that would be lovely. And can we get some fish and chips? Something nice and greasy?”

He gave her a small smile. “We can see what’s still open. I’ll see if Mycroft can help get us into something sold out.”

“Any chance we can see Colin Firth’s play?” she asked, standing up. “I’ve heard it’s brilliant. And that would be even better than seeing something on Broadway. I’ve been a fan of his for a long, long time.”

“I’ll see what strings my brother can pull,” he said as he stood as well. They made their way to the manager. When they approached Sherlock nodded to him. “We’ve decided we’d rather enjoy our evening elsewhere. There will be a party of ten in later, under the name of Donovan, I believe. It’s most likely going to be a party of eight, but I’d like to cover the meal in their entirety, whatever it is it may come out to.”

The manager nodded. “I can put your credit card information on file for that reservation, Mr. Holmes,” he said.

“Thank you,” he said. The two men discussed the business of Sherlock paying for the meal and then Sherlock turned to Molly again. “Shall we?”

“That was very nice of you,” she said. “You really do have a heart underneath all of that posturing.”

“Yes, well, they were expecting both of us and it’s my intention to keep you out well past the end of this dinner,” he said.

“On a date, perhaps?” she asked, giving him a smile.

“If you insist it is,” he said, unsure of how she’d react.

She reached over for his hand, linking her fingers between his. “I think I am going to have to insist this is a date, Sherlock,” she said, her smile getting wider. “And I’m sure everyone will completely understand if that’s why we’re not at Greg’s celebratory dinner.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m quite sure,” she said with a laugh. “I think they’d rather have us go out on a date then be at dinner with them. They might even say it’s about time.” She was going to say more but someone ran into her. “Oof!”

“I’m sorry,” the man said. Then he narrowed his eyes slightly. “Molly? Molly Hooper?”

She looked at him, and then gave the man a dazzling smile. “Oh, you must be James! I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our date. Someone better came along.” She lifted up her and Sherlock’s hands. “Maybe next time you’ll actually call if you’re going to be late. Have a good evening!”

They made their way to the lift as Sherlock chuckled. “Oh, you must have enjoyed that,” he said, staring at the man’s dumbfounded expression.

“You know, I did enjoy that quite a bit,” she said thoughtfully. Then she stepped closer to him. “Is he looking?”

“Yes, he is,” Sherlock said before turning to her.

“I should snog you to make a point,” she said.

He let go of her hand and pulled her closer. “Hopefully you won’t regret it.”

“I’m fairly sure snogging Sherlock Holmes to make someone jealous is on my list of things to do before I die,” she said with a smile before putting her arms around his neck.

“So long as you don’t regret it,” he said before he leaned in to kiss her softly. Or at least he had intended it to be a soft kiss. It was as though he was jolted and the kiss was electric, and he _needed_ it, needed her. It quickly became something that escalated in intensity and passion and far too soon he was pulling away, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath. “I…hadn’t expected that to happen.”

“I hadn’t either,” she said quietly.

“Neither had we,” Mary could be heard saying from inside the lift. Sherlock and Molly turned, arms still around each other, to see Mary, John, Lestrade, Sally and the others who were celebrating Lestrade’s imminent promotion in the lift, all with dropped jaws and shocked expressions. All except Mary, who had a huge grin on her face. “I doubt the two of them are staying to join us, though, so why don’t we all get off and head up to the bar and let them be on their way, all right?”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said.

“You owe me details tomorrow morning,” Mary said quietly to Molly as she walked by, leading a surprised John past them. “Have fun you two, and don’t do anything illegal, immoral or dangerous!”

Molly chuckled at that, and soon enough the lift was cleared. Sherlock and Molly stepped inside, and Sherlock pressed the button to take them down the thirty-nine floors back to the street level. She reached up to play with the collar of Sherlock’s shirt. “So…perhaps we could settle for a Colin Firth film at my flat instead?” she said. 

“I could be amenable to that change in plans,” he said, pulling her closer. “But I will make sure there’s a proper date at some point.”

“’At some point’ being the operative words,” she murmured before kissing him again. This evening was not going at all how he had planned, or even how he could have possibly dreamed it would, but he had hope that it would turn out to be one of the best evenings of his life if his luck continued to hold out.


End file.
